


Dean Winchester, Social Justice Warrior

by RurouniHime



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 5+1 Things, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Bisexual Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Crack, Don't copy to another site, Established Relationship, Homophobic Language, M/M, Protective Dean Winchester, Season/Series 15 Spoilers, Social Justice, not 15x20 compliant, this is totally how that would look
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28367148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RurouniHime/pseuds/RurouniHime
Summary: I decided I want fic where Dean, having fully accepted his bisexuality, ends up Going Off at anyone who makes derogatory comments when he's out with Cas.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 55
Kudos: 402
Collections: my favorite Destiel fics





	Dean Winchester, Social Justice Warrior

**Author's Note:**

> Because you know that though it may take him a bit, once he committed, he would go on the warpath and scare the living shit out of anyone who tried anything.
> 
> **WARNINGS for homophobic slurs, all used by Assholes and all properly chastised.**
> 
> Takes place sometime between 15x19 and 15x20. Or something.

_One._

Someone snickers behind them. “Jeez, will you look at these fairies trying out an action film.”

Dean drops his feet from the back of the headrest in front of him and turns around in his seat. “I’m sorry, _what_ did you just say?”

“Dean,” Cas whispers. The theater lights are already down. The cop is already off the plane with his teddy bear. _“Dean.”_

Dean gets up, all six-foot-one-stonewashed-jeans-plaid-flannel-and-work-boots of him, and looms. “No, no, I’d like to hear. Say it to my face, asshole.”

The Asshole in question does not in fact say it to Dean’s face. The Asshole in question may be thinking about peeing himself. Eventually, under Dean’s watchful eye, the Asshole in question finds another seat.

*  
*  
*

_Two._

Someone else offers an opinion on the manliness of holding hands with a dude in public.

Dean also has an opinion. “You know what’s manly? _Manly_ is having the guts to treat the most important person in your life with respect and consideration!”

Cas tugs on Dean’s hand. “Dean.”

“Hold on, babe, I’m almost done here.”

Dean continues to expound upon his opinions in the middle of the bowling alley’s parking lot. The Asshole wisely trades opinions for an epiphany. 

_Shit, shit, please make it stop, I’m sorry, I regret everything._

Not the best prayer. Cas does not see fit to grant it.

*  
*  
*

_Three._

At the public gun range, Dean kisses Cas’s mouth as he hands him his semi-automatic and earmuffs.

“Limp wrists can’t shoot for shit,” says the Asshole down the way.

Dean doesn’t say a word. _Dean_ blows sixty-nine holes through the guy’s target from two lanes over, then runs over his gun case with the Impala.

“Well, actually, I’m starting to enjoy this,” Cas tells the range owner.

*  
*  
*

_Four._

At the Gas’n’Sip, the Asshole by the Funyuns says something about Cas’s nancy suit, hipster hair, and Real Men having Real Jobs. 

Dean slams the door of the pie case shut so hard the cashier squeaks. “FUCKER, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE AND I’LL TELL YOU HOW MY KICKASS ACCOUNTANT BOYFRIEND WILL FUCK YOU OVER WITH THE IRS.”

Cas calls Sam. “You _may_ want to get over here.”

_“Why, what’s wrong? Rugaru? Shifters??”_

“Worse. Bring popcorn,” Cas says, and hangs up.

*  
*  
*

_Five._

They take Jack out for his fourth birthday dinner. The waitress is instantly in love.

“Hi!” Jack says as she coos over him. “It’s my fourth birthday dinner!”

“Fourth... this year?” the waitress asks.

“I’ll take a hamburger with no onions, and my dads will each have a double bacon cheeseburger with fries. Hold the ketchup on his,” Jack says, indicating Cas.

The Asshole at the next table gets a look on his face. The Asshole at the next table opens his mouth.

Cas leans over the back of the booth. “Please don’t. My fiancé has a big trunk, fifteen shovels, five acres out back of an undocumented power plant, and a very short social justice fuse.”

Dean glowers stonily over the booth from his seat.

The Asshole notices. “Uh. Check please?”

The waitress gives him his check, and theirs too.

*

(Cas has alternate options prepared. His personal favorites are “My fiancé and his brother dig graves for a living,” and, because bigotry is in no way limited to species, “My fiancé has a portal to an apocalypse world and no love for Nazis. I advise you to rethink your next words.”

They invariably have an effect.)

*  
*  
*

_+One._

By the dwindling sounds of scuffling, things are finally winding down in the storm drain culvert.

“You know, you guys really are the worst pain in my ass,” Dean’s voice echoes.

“Dean.” Cas sticks his head back into the tunnel. “We’re on a deadline.”

“What can I say, man?” Dean says to his quarry, wiping down his blade. “Anniversary night.”

“Are you serious?” The vampire collapsed against the wall looks back and forth between them, grimaces, then spits dead man's blood at Dean’s feet. “Pain in your ass, huh? Bet Daddy Winchester’s _real_ proud of his son.”

Cas stalks in and grabs it by the throat.

Dean sighs behind him. “Cas, it’s okay.”

Cas is in the middle of something, thank you very much, Dean. He is in the middle of choking the living daylights out of this Asshole with one hand and two metric tons of grace. “It is the _opposite_ of okay.”

Dean shrugs and waves him on, so Cas returns to the task at hand. “I pulled him out of hell, lovingly put him back together, spent _twelve years_ convincing him that he is worth more than the sanctimonious bullshit you all tell him about himself, finally _did_ it by dying in front of him, which is the worst thing I have ever done to anyone in my four billion years of existence, all so that he could save the world for your ungrateful ass, and you have the GALL TO SAY THAT TO HIM?”

The Asshole gurgles. How dare he. Cas adds another metric ton.

Dean fidgets. “Hey, Cas?”

“What?”

“Can we, you know, wrap this up? I am so hard right now.”

Cas leans close. “Know that my husband’s incredible skill and stamina in the sack is the only reason you are still alive right now.”

“Got it,” promises the Asshole, wheezing.

Cas knocks it out, tosses it into the sewer proper to die, then goes home to have an _extremely_ enjoyable evening.

~fin~

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, they're watching Die Hard. Cas loves Die Hard. John reminds him of Dean.
> 
> Thank you to coffeejunkii for laughing over this with me.


End file.
